Standing over her, he was so close that he seemed to be taking up all the available air. Determined to make him agree, Greer was still having trouble keeping her mind focused.
“Mr. Maitland, Mrs. Maitland has her heart set on getting everyone together.”
What some society woman did or didn’t want made no impression on him. He had to make his living out here, in the real world. He turned away from Megan Maitland’s little pit bull of a messenger and began to walk toward his bedroom and the shower that was just beyond.
“Well, then, I’m afraid her heart’s going to be broken, but I suspect she’ll live.”
Moving quickly, Greer got in front of him again, blocking his way out of the room. “Why don’t you at least think about it?”
Rafe paused, cocked his head as if shifting something over from one side to the other, then said, “There. I thought about it.” He looked her right in the eyes. “No,” he enunciated very firmly.
She felt her knees becoming less than solid. Envisioning Megan’s disappointment, Greer somehow managed to hold her ground. “Why?”
What was wrong with this woman? Why couldn’t she take no for an answer? “Because I plain don’t have the time or the inclination.” He had to really work to hold on to his temper. “Look, I don’t know this woman, and if she’s my aunt like you say—”
“She is—”
The look in his eyes froze any further words in her throat. “Then where was she before?”
“Before?” Greer echoed, not sure what he was referring to.
“Before now,” he ground out. He was tired, he was hungry and the unseasonable humidity was making the shoulder he’d injured years ago when he’d spilled off his horse ache. “Why no cards at Christmas? Why no visits in the last twenty-five years? No word while I was growing up? For all I know, Greer, this is just some big hoax—”
The flash of temper came out of nowhere, like a quick summer storm in the desert. She didn’t like the way he’d said her name, as if it were something comical. “It’s not.”
“Why should I go?” he wanted to know, looming over her again, his eyes holding hers. “Because you say so?”
She was utterly aware of him. The youngest of Mrs. Maitland’s long lost family was standing much too close to her. The fact that he was also bare-chested and sweaty was making it increasingly difficult for her to breathe. Telling herself that it was the heavy September air and not the man was a flat-out lie and she knew it.
Still, like a loyal terrier, she hung in. “No, because it’s the right thing to do.”
The right thing. What did someone with smooth, pampered hands and unbroken fingernails know about the right thing? What would she know about how hard it was to make a living in a hostile world? His lips curled in a sneer.
“The right thing, Greer, would be for you to retreat and tell Her Majesty that one of her relatives can’t be summoned to the gathering.” He paused at his bedroom door, his hand on the doorknob. “I’m sure I won’t be the only one sending his ‘regrets.’”
She wasn’t accustomed to lying, but she was beginning to think that perhaps there was a time and a place for everything.
“Yes, you will be,” Greer called after him.
He laughed under his breath and then turned to look at her over his shoulder, sincerely doubting her statement. “Well, I always did like standing out. Now, you’ve used up your five minutes, Greer, and I’d like to get on a first-name basis with my shower, so I figure you can see yourself out.”
With that he withdrew, leaving her flabbergasted and alone in his living room.
He shed his jeans as he walked toward his bathroom shower stall. Damn, where did she get off, being pushy like that? He had a hell of a lot more important things on his mind than prancing off to some society bigwig’s party and being treated like the long lost black sheep of the family.
Rafe turned on the water full blast and let the steam envelop him, kneading the tight, aching muscles.
Tilting his head up under the showerhead, he laughed to himself. Hell, the whole side of his family could be thought of as black sheep when it came to the Maitland clan. And he supposed he was the blackest for not having anything to do with any of them.
But there were reasons for that.
Besides, he thought, lathering quickly, he had more than enough to deal with, what with Rory and Lil dying and leaving him to care for Bethany. Him, a confirmed bachelor without a clue what to do with a baby that didn’t have four legs and a tail. If that wasn’t enough, Lil’s aunt and uncle had suddenly turned up after years of silence, demanding custody of the little girl.
He washed the soap from his body, turning up the heat another notch and standing there to absorb the hot water. Maybe he would even have let them have Bethany, if he hadn’t given his word to Lil that he wouldn’t. With almost the last breath in her body, she’d begged him not to let the pair get their hands on Bethany. Not to put her baby through the hell she’d lived through and barely survived as a child. Lil wanted something better for Bethany. And it was up to him to see that she got it.
So he’d gone to a lawyer, first thing, and plunked down his hard-earned money, knowing that he needed help to allow him to keep his word. That stuck in his throat a little, not being able to do it alone. He was used to fighting his own battles, cleaning up his own messes. He’d been doing it ever since he could remember, raising himself because his parents were either too busy fighting or too busy living their own lives to take any notice of him.
Well, strictly speaking, he supposed his mother had tried her best. But the former showgirl was far more suited to dancing in skimpy outfits than to being a mother. She hadn’t the faintest idea what a kid needed. But Veronica Maitland had given him love and he supposed she had done her best.
He didn’t fault her. He faulted his father, who actually was a Maitland. In Rafe’s book, they were all probably like his old man. Out for themselves, self-serving. There had to be some kind of gimmick behind this invitation, he thought, and he wasn’t about to play along. Not if there wasn’t anything in it for him.
As seductive as standing under the shower was, Rafe forced himself to hurry. He didn’t want to greet the new cook’s daughter in his birthday suit. He’d seen the way the cook could swing a cleaver and wanted to take no chances on being on the receiving end of that.
Getting out, Rafe quickly toweled himself dry and slid on a clean pair of jeans. Alyssa, he figured, would be here with the baby any minute. They had an arrangement. She watched the baby during the day while he worked, and he was teaching her to ride. He figured he was getting the better end of the deal.
His hair still damp from the shower, his clean shirt only half buttoned, Rafe opened his bedroom door and walked out of the room to find that the woman in the large glasses and sensible shoes was once again standing in his living room.
“What the hell are you doing back?” he demanded.
Her back to him, Greer jumped, startled. She hadn’t heard the door open. She’d been waiting for him, trying to string together her words so that she could make an effective argument, and he’d surprised her.
She bit her lower lip. She was better at delivering an argument on paper than in person, but it was time she learned how to talk.
“I never left.”
Rafe indicated the door behind her. “Well, leave now.”
She stood her ground. “No, not until you actually hear me out.” And not until you say yes, she added silently. She began to talk quickly, knowing he was getting ready to cut her off. “The reason Mrs. Maitland never got in contact with you before is that, until just recently, she was as ignorant of you as you were of her. The point is—” Greer drew herself up “—you know about each other now and now is all that counts.”
He’d always admired guts, and he had to admit, she seemed to have guts in spades. Instead of throwing the woman out, he rethought the situation. If he gave her a condition she couldn’t meet, she’d be forced to withdraw and stop badgering him. And
his conscience would be clean.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “Now is all that counts. If you’re so hot to get me there, fine. But I need a favor.” He leveled his gaze at her. “Now.”
The nervousness she’d been experiencing ever since she’d seen him walking toward her like a stalking panther intensified.
“What kind of favor?” She failed to keep the tension out of her voice.
A fragment of what the lawyer he’d gone to had said to him came back to Rafe. The attorney had told him that he would have an easier time of gaining custody of Bethany if he was married or at least engaged.
Okay, that was it. He looked at her. “I need a fiancée.”
It was to Greer’s credit that her mouth didn’t drop open. “I beg your pardon?”
He had her, Rafe thought triumphantly. He could almost hear the door closing behind her already.
“No need to beg anything. I made a promise to two friends, the best friends a man could ever want, and in order to keep that promise, it looks like I’m going to need a fiancée. A wife, really, but I don’t think I have to carry this act too far.” She was going to turn tail and run any second, he promised himself. “Tell me, Greer, do you want me to go to this Christmas thing enough to pretend to be my fiancée?”
This was insane. What he was asking was plain crazy. It went way above and beyond the call of duty to the point of being absurd. A fiancée.
She had no idea why she was even considering it.
Because, a tiny voice within her whispered, in all likelihood, this was going to be the closest she would ever get to being anyone’s fiancée or to wearing an engagement ring, other than staring at one through Tiffany’s window.
Besides, more than likely, the man was bluffing. If she met his bluff, he’d be forced to give in and give up. She smiled at him with a shade of triumph. She had him.
“Yes.”
She saw surprise register on his lean, tanned face, followed by shock. Greer congratulated herself on guessing correctly.
Self-congratulations were short-lived as she saw a smile beginning at the corners of his mouth. Though it was a small smile, it seemed to make all the difference in the world. His austere face turned heart-stoppingly handsome.
Greer felt her heart go into double-time before she could think to rein it in. The air turned several degrees warmer than it already was.
An uneasiness began to spread through her. What in heaven’s name had she just gotten herself into?
Chapter 2
Okay, Rafe thought, his mind racing as he pieced things together, realigning them in light of what had just transpired, maybe this whole reunion idea might actually work out to his benefit. His, and more important, Bethany’s.
Until the lady with the ridiculous name had pushed him a little too hard, he hadn’t been thinking along the lines of deception, but hell, he’d learned a long time ago that when an avalanche of lemons starts tumbling your way, you had damn well better learn how to make lemonade out of them fast.
This, he decided, was going to be lemonade.
All right, this was going to be a lie, he allowed, but it wasn’t the kind of lie his father habitually told. This was going to be a lie for a good purpose, and sometimes the end did justify the means. Especially if that end meant that he got to keep Bethany.
What he needed right now was a little something extra in his corner to tip the scales. After all, this was Lil’s uncle and aunt he was taking on in the courtroom, not her parents or grandparents, both of whom, had they been alive, would have had a lot more leverage than he did in the eyes of the court. The odds became a tiny bit better when the family connection was a little more distant, as it was in this case. If he had a few chips stacked on his side, he might just win this fight. And he needed to win, because he’d given his word.
And because Bethany had already won his heart. He couldn’t rightly see life without her anymore.
The first thing he had to do, he knew even without the attorney’s advice, was to make himself seem respectable and stable in the eyes of the family court judge. Never mind that he’d turned his life around these last few years, going from being a rootless hellion to a man who made a decent living as a foreman on a large ranch. He’d worked his way up to that, spending long, hard hours doing anything that needed doing and learning the ranching business while he was at it. Eventually, he intended to own his own horse ranch, but for now, he was content to work his butt off for a boss who was demanding but fair.
There was no doubt about it, he was nothing like the no-account gambler from Las Vegas he’d been on his way to becoming—just like his father.
But none of that really mattered. According to the lawyer he’d recently hired, what seemed to count heavily in the eyes of the court was his marital status. That and his standing in the community. He didn’t have much of a reputation in the community, keeping to himself whenever possible, and there was no way to turn himself into a pillar of that community in a short amount of time.
But he could pretend to be on his way to getting married. And, he’d only just realized, he did have connections that counted. Connections this slim-hipped, no-frills woman standing in his living room had just made him acutely aware of. Connections that just might help turn the tide for him.
Rafe widened his smile.
As a rule, he didn’t believe in riding on anyone else’s coattails. He’d gotten to where he was by relying only on himself ever since he’d been half his age. But rules wouldn’t be rules if they weren’t sometimes bent a little.
Even so, he wouldn’t be considering this under ordinary circumstances. But these weren’t ordinary circumstances. He had Bethany’s welfare to consider.
The pint-size little darling had been the center of Rory and Lil’s world and had quickly taken over that spot in his. If even half the things that Lil had said about her childhood were true, there was no way on God’s green earth he was going to allow Bethany to fall into the hands of Lil’s uncle and aunt. Lil had grown up in a world devoid of love and caring. He wanted Bethany to have a happy childhood, not an emotionally deprived one.
If achieving that goal meant having to be friendly with a woman who hadn’t given him, or his family for that matter, the time of day in all these years, he was up to it. He could play the game and pretend, ultimately giving Megan Maitland exactly what she deserved. Nothing. All things considered, the charade seemed like a small price to pay for Bethany’s welfare.
Rafe shoved his hands into his back pockets, straining the jeans against his hips. Very slowly, he circled Greer, studying her intently. She looked a little skittish to him. He’d seen horses with that look, all spit and polish on the outside but ready to bolt at the first loud sound they heard.
The last thing he wanted was to have her fold on him when the going got tough.
Rafe drew closer to Greer, still scrutinizing her. He watched her face. “You’re sure about this?”
She knew it. He was waiting for her to back down. Confidence began to return. This wasn’t really any different than a merger or an acquisition.
Except that mergers and acquisitions never wore worn, tight-fitting jeans that caused her mind to lose its focus and her pulse to do funny things.
Blocking out the sight, Greer raised her chin defiantly.
“I’m sure.”
“Great, you’ve got yourself a houseguest.”
Rafe put his hand out to hers. When she didn’t take it quickly enough, he took hers and wrapped his tanned fingers around it, gripping firmly. To his surprise, the limp handshake he expected didn’t materialize. Instead, after a beat, his mysterious aunt’s emissary shook his hand as firmly as any man he’d ever made a bargain with.
A handshake said a lot about a person. Maybe there was hope for the woman yet.
Those same nerves she’d felt earlier began to waltz through her again, picking up the tempo until they could have been accused of doing an old-fashioned jitterbug instead. They were especially prevalent alon
g her arm. The arm that was connected to the hand that had been swallowed up by his.
It was all she could do to return the pressure of his grip. She knew he’d respect nothing less.
Taking care not to pull her hand away from his too quickly and give Rafe the impression that she was leery of him, Greer extricated her hand as she tried to sort out any misunderstandings before they had a chance to mushroom out of control.
“You’re not going to be my houseguest, you’ll be staying with Mrs. Maitland. The estate has a great many guest rooms.”
The smile on his lips moved slowly until it lit his face. Rafe knew exactly what she was thinking, though she was doing an admirable job of attempting to mask it. He’d come across fear more than once or twice himself and he was able to recognize the signs.
“This engagement is just for appearances. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
She’d be the judge of that. Men who looked like Rafe Maitland were always dangerous.
“Do you mind if I ask why you need a fiancée?” She raised her hands before he had a chance to accuse her of backing down. “Not that I’m reneging, I just need a few details if I’m going to be convincing in this part.”
Rafe caught himself watching her mouth as she spoke and looked up into her eyes instead. Her choice of words amused him. Convincing. Now, that was something that could lead to a great many interesting things. If he were in the market for that kind of thing. A couple of years ago, he might have been. But his wild days and his wild oats were all behind him. They had to be. He had a good job, a future and a baby to worry about. Women were the last thing to occupy his thoughts.
But before he could answer her, there was a knock on his front door. The next minute, it was being opened.
The dark-haired woman with the snapping brown eyes and the easy smile who entered was obviously not worried about standing on ceremony, Greer thought as she turned to see her walk in. She had a baby with her comfortably resting on her hip. The baby had dark hair, like she did.
The familiar way the woman looked at Rafe made Greer think they had an intimate relationship. Was she his girlfriend? His mistress? And why was he asking her to pose as his fiancée when this spit-fire was part of his life?
The Inheritance Page 2